


Adjacent Evil

by MissMoochy



Series: MissMoochy's Spideypool Bingo Oneshots [12]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Gwen (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man/Deadpool - Joe Kelly (Comics)
Genre: Aged-Up Peter Parker, Angst, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Blood and Gore, Dark Matt Murdock, Dark!Matt, Dimension Travel, Doppelganger, Enabler Wade Wilson, Evil Peter Parker, Evil Twins, Hurt Wade Wilson, M/M, Matt Murderdock - Freeform, Multiverse, POV Wade Wilson, Parasites, Peter Parker has the Venom Symbiote, Pining, Possession, Sadism, Spideypool Bingo 2020, Temporary Character Death, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love, Wade Wilson Loves Peter Parker, Wade Wilson Needs A Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27313987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMoochy/pseuds/MissMoochy
Summary: Spideypool Bingo prompt:[Sadism]Bad Things Happen Bingo prompt: [Parasite]Wade loves Peter, but that love isn't returned. It seems like Wade is destined to a life of endless pining until a mysterious man tells him of a way he can find a Peter Parker of his very own. There are multiple universes that closely mirror our own. Wade could travel through all of them until he finds a Peter Parker who is willing to love him. And he does. But the new guy is nothing like the Peter Parker Wade knows and loves.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Series: MissMoochy's Spideypool Bingo Oneshots [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813951
Comments: 11
Kudos: 66
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	Adjacent Evil

Love is a powerful thing.

It’s universal. Every culture has its own concept of love. The languages may differ but the idea is the same. It’s somebody you care about. Somebody you protect. Somebody who enriches your life, simply by being a part of it.

Wade was pretty sure he loved Peter.

He’d fallen hard for Spider-Man and even harder for Peter Parker. Spider-Man was his fucking idol, the blue-suited lynchpin that held everything together. He was the face of Queens, New York. A symbol of hope and bravery. He was a man who truly believed in the basic goodness of humanity. And everything he did was to make the city safer. God, Wade loved him. How could you not?

But Peter was…fluffy. Doe eyes and a goofy smile (crooked teeth!) and dorky t-shirts. Baggy, faded jeans and old, scuffed sneakers with fraying laces. He was clever and sweet and kind and best of all…approachable. Easy to chat to, fun to be around, a true friend. He was _perfect._

Oh, and straight. Very, very straight.

Wade knew this because Peter’s eyes sparkled as he flirted with the waitress bringing him his order. He knew this because he’d borrowed Peter’s cell once and had noted he had Tinder downloaded, not Grindr. And he also knew this because one night (after too much Pool Fuel and a nip of Asgardian Ale), Wade had somehow been drunk enough to plant a wet, sloppy kiss right on that perfectly-imperfect mouth. And Peter had leaned back, those pretty, pink lips twisting into a little moue and he’d said: “Oh, um. Sorry, Wade, I’m not…I’m not…”

And that was fine. Really.

Wade wasn’t one of those jerks who couldn’t handle rejection. So he shrugged and easily dismissed Peter’s apologies and the moment was over. Horrible, awful, let’s forget it, move on.

He still continued his nightly ritual of Spider-Man-themed masturbation. He was only human, after all.

So no, the torch he carried for a certain arachnid superhero wasn’t dying out anytime soon. But it was fine.

* * *

He tried the usual methods of getting over rejection. He watched _He’s Just Not That Into You_ with Al. He ate too much ice cream. He fucked a few sex workers. He drunkenly sobbed in Sister Margaret’s, until Weasel kicked him out. But none of it was working.

“You know this crush isn’t going to go away until you stop hanging out with the guy, right?” Weasel told him, one night. Maybe it was the spectacles, but Weasel sounded intelligent, to poor, inebriated Wade. He had a point.

Of course, Wade had been vague in his lovesick lamentations. Didn’t want to out Peter as Spidey. _Oh, Weasel, what am I gonna do? I know this guy, I love him, he’s my buddy but he’s straight._ _Oh, Weasel, today that guy I told you about gave me the cutest smile and I thought my heart was gonna blow up like a pigeon that’s eaten wedding rice. Oh, Weasel—_

“This dude you’re crushing on. Please, for the love of fuck, tell me it’s not me?” Weasel said.

“Ew! C’mon, dude,” Wade said, making several affected faces and adding a few faux-retching sounds for good measure.

Weasel slid another beer across the bar to him. “Just making sure.”

Wade glumly accepted the drink.

“You got love problems, huh?” said a voice from beside him. Wade turned to see a man he’d not met before. He was handsome, maybe in his early forties, tall and lean, with ginger hair. His eyes were hidden by dark sunglasses but his smile was friendly enough. Wade didn’t trust him for a second.

He downed his beer, and it flowed through his throat like water. It took so much effort to get drunk these days. Just another thing to thank Weapon X for. “And so what if I do? What, are you asking me out?”

“You should be so lucky,” the man chuckled. “No need to be aggressive. I have a proposition for you.”

Wade and Weasel exchanged glances. Wade turned back to him. “What do you have that _I_ could want?”

“Tell me something. Do you know much about parallel universes?”

Wade blinked. That was not what he’d expected the man to say. He thought back, reflecting on his time peering out through the fourth wall. The forbidden knowledge was hidden somewhere in his mind. It only made appearances when necessary. But he knew what the guy meant. “There are loads of universes, just like ours,” he said slowly. “I mean, like ours but a bit different. And I know there are people who travel between them. I’ve used teleporters before.”

“Ah, but I doubt you knew what you were doing. I’ve got something that could help you travel between all the universes in our existence. Whatever you’re seeking, you’ll find it. In some form.”

Wade looked at him blankly. Weasel was still watching the two of them, his eyes flickering between both men’s faces — like a spectator at a tennis match. “What I’m seeking? Okay, dude, you’ve lost me.”

“You said you’re in love with somebody who doesn’t love you back?” he said. His lip curled. “A _man.”_

“Yeah, and Pete—I mean, uh, _Greg_ is straight, so I don’t know—”

The guy pushed his coat sleeve up one arm and Wade saw something glinting on his wrist. “But he might not be straight in every universe. If you had this handy device, you could find out.”

“What _is_ that?”

“It’s a dimensional portal watch. I borrowed it from a very nice, young lady. You can use this to travel between worlds and find your beloved and see if any of the infinite _Gregs_ is somebody who would desire you.”

“I can’t do that to...Greg. I can’t. He’s my friend. It would be…weird. And he wouldn’t be consenting.”

“It wouldn’t be your buddy from this universe. It would be another person. Somebody with their own memories that differ from his. But if you want to be a pathetic, single loner, drowning your sorrows in this god-awful place, well then, be my guest. I suppose I misjudged you.”

He turned to leave.

Wade knew he was being swindled, but the guy’s words had opened up a world of possibility in his brain. He could see it like a movie playing out in his head. A different Peter. An adoring, sweet Peter. A Peter who would flirt with him, kiss him, wrap his arms around him and use that super-spidey strength to throw Wade down and—

“Wait! Don’t go. Let’s talk deals.”

The man smiled.

* * *

Weasel shook his head in disgust but didn’t try to stop Wade. He’d known him long enough to understand that once Wade had a goal in mind, he would never be swayed. Wade and the mysterious seller slipped out of the bar and headed for a nearby alleyway. Wade was surprised to see the man walked with a cane. Not the kind that gives you balance but the type that blind people use.

“Are you blind?” he asked him as they entered the pitch-black mouth of the alley.

“We’re all blind, Wade.” the man said tiredly. He wondered how he knew his name.

* * *

“Seriously? You don’t want anything? _Who_ are you?”

Dodgy dealings in a dark alleyway seemed so cliche. But Wade’s whole life felt like a movie, so he was willing to brave the mould and stink of overflowing garbage cans.

“I might need your expertise at a later date. I’m offering this watch to you on the understanding that, should I need your help, I can count on you.”

“A favour?” Wade said dubiously. “You want me to be indebted to you? Some arbitrary favour? How would you even find me in the future?”

“I’ll sniff you out,” the man said, tapping his nose. “So, do we have a deal, Deadpool?”

Spider-Man would refuse. He’d stare at him through two impassive web eyes and decline his offer and probably preach about morality or something. But Peter wasn’t Wade. Peter had friends, clear skin and public acclaim. Wade had enemies, scars and a Spider-Man plushie with a fleshlight fitted into it (in his nightstand).

“Okay, deal.”

* * *

“You’re not from this universe, are you?” Wade asked him as the guy slid the watch off his wrist.

“What gave me away?”

“Nothing. I don’t know. Just a vibe, I guess.”

“Hm. Well, I’ll be returning to my own world soon enough. Perhaps we’ll meet again someday. You might visit my universe! You never know.” His pale hand reached out, the watch dangling from two slim fingers. Those long, grasping fingers repulsed Wade. They were like the twitching limbs of some grotesque, bloated spider.

“That girl you took it from. Is she gonna want it back?”

“No. She has no need for it now.”

“How are you going to get back to your universe?”

The man smiled and reached into his pocket. He brought out a clump of something silver. Watches. Multiple watches. It was impossible to count how many there were because they were all jumbled together in a strange, glittering rat king. “Don’t worry about me, I’m covered.”

Wade looked closer. Some of the watches looked far too small to fit on an adult’s wrist. “Did you take those ones, too?”

His new friend straightened up, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “You know what my problem is? I have so many watches but so little time. I’d best head back home before it gets any later. But you go have fun. Happy travels, Wade.” He brushed past Wade without further comment and exited the alley, his cane clicking a path in front of him.

Wade shivered and hurried home.

* * *

He fired off a quick text to inform him that _yes,_ Wade alright, _no,_ that was _not_ Satan he’d just walked off with and yes, Wade was home safe and not going to do anything stupid. That last one was a lie, but Weasel should expect that by now.

* * *

Al wanted help waxing her moustache, and then she managed to wheedle a game of poker out of Wade, so it was several hours later that he finally returned to his bedroom.

* * *

He wasted about twenty minutes, arguing with the boxes. Yellow was in favour of dimension-hopping, while White declared Wade a ‘suicidal moron’. The reader offered no thoughts of their own, and Wade was grateful for that. He already had too much to think about.

He was fully prepared for the possibility that he might not return from his voyage. Oh, he wouldn’t die, but he could end up stranded. The thought of Al shuffling along without Wade to pester her…it saddened him. But she’d be okay. Maybe Weasel would keep an eye on her for him.

“Now or never,” Wade mumbled to himself.

He slid the watch over his hand. It was a tight fit, barely sliding over his knuckles but once it was on, it was on.

* * *

Dimension travelling was rough on the old digestive system. Wade puked a lot. Passed out a few times.

He lost track of the worlds. He remembered counting seventeen realities and then the watch started glitching— throwing him around without him even touching the buttons— and he lost count. It was impossible to know how much time had passed because _his_ watch (that he had bought at Walmart with actual money) had stopped working.

He did find a universe with Peter. The world was much like his own. If Peter would reside in any universe, it would be this one. He paid for half an hour at a cyber cafe, and googled Peter Parker. He found several news articles, claiming that Peter Parker had been murdered by Spider-Woman. Spider- _Woman,_ not Spider- _Man._ Huh. The Peter Parker of this universe looked similar to Wade’s Peter, smiling dully on the grainy photo in the article. But this Peter had a rather insolent-looking mouth and a thick pair of spectacles.

The watch could only throw him between universes, it couldn’t send him back in time, so he had to leave this poor, dead Peter on the computer screen. As he walked along the streets, he decided that he was taking the grief remarkably well. He’d already mentally prepared himself for the possibility that one of these infinite Peters might be dead. Upon consideration, he felt okay. This was just another Peter Parker. There would be others.

* * *

He spent several chunks of immeasurable time, searching for Peter. He found a few more dead Peters, although, thankfully, most of them had died of natural causes. He left stolen flowers at a dozen graves. Some universes didn’t have any Peter Parkers at all. His go-to method was breaking into somebody’s house and using their pc while they slept. For some reason, his cellphone wasn’t working. He’d google Peter’s name and check out the resulting social media pages or news articles. It seemed that wherever Peter was, he made a splash. Internships at Stark Industries or a CEO of his own enterprise. Wade was pleased for him. Although it felt like a punch in the gut when he discovered that some of the Peter Parkers were married. To women. Beautiful women with their original hair and teeth intact and not a scar in sight.

He’d been facing a Peter drought recently. He’d only found one Peter Parker in recent weeks? Months? And this one had been six months old. He’d recognise those sweet brown eyes anywhere, even in a chubby-cheeked baby’s face. Peter’s parents were still alive in this universe, which was nice. Wade clicked out of the Facebook page. He couldn’t keep doing this. Searching infinite universes for one man. It was the stupidest thing he’d ever done, and there was no guarantee he’d find what he was looking for.

* * *

But then he found him.

This Peter was beautiful. Oh, who was he kidding? All Peter Parkers were beautiful to Wade. But this guy…it felt like fate.

Wade watched him spin in the air, kicks and punches as he battled some baddie. His lean, rangy limbs were like molten shadows, bending and stretching with an unnatural agility.

Peter’s Spider suit was black and white, still stylish with a huge white spider pattern on the chest.

His mask sort of melted into his face and Wade was able to get a good look at him. Huge brown eyes and floppy bangs. Cute. _Yeah, this one’ll do,_ he thought to himself.

“Did Peter always have that many limbs?” Wade muttered, but the answer was clear. Enormous, curling tentacles were emanating from Peter’s sides, curling protectively around him. The shiny, wet black was instantly familiar. Seems that this Peter Parker had picked up a symbiote. Huh.

“Hi,”

“Hello, Deadpool,” Peter said, a small smile playing on his lips.

“You know me?”

“Oh yes,” Peter said, the smile growing wider. “I know you very well.”

Surprisingly, when Wade asked him to come home with him, Peter didn’t take much convincing. He seemed curious to know more about Wade’s universe and apparently had no reservations about leaving his own world.

“So, you’d be willing to come home with me?”

Peter bowed his head. “I would.”

“And your buddy? Can I get an audience with him?”

Peter straightened up, and as Wade watched, the transformation took place. Liquid black oozed out of his pores, spilling over his flawless skin, as if his whole body had been dipped in ink. Enormous eyes, like egg whites sizzling in the pan, stretched across his face and they widened, dripping something wet and sticky down his cheeks. Lastly, two rows of razor-sharp teeth sprang up out of his gums like the sped-up footage of a flower bud opening. The teeth gurned in an approximation of a smile.

“What’s up?” Wade said, playing it cool. “You got a name to go with all that rubbery skin and teeth?”

**I am Scourge. If you are referring to the flesh beast I cling to...his name was Peter.**

“Was?”

**There is only Scourge now.**

“And Peter’s cool with that?”

Scourge hummed thoughtfully, and the sound was like doorknobs rolling around in a sack. **He has no choice but to be…cool with it.**

“Can’t believe I got a creepy space beast to say ‘cool with it.’ And you’d be okay with coming back to my universe?”

**I should like to find a new land to explore. To claim. I will produce more of my kind and raise them in your world. They will spread across the countries, finding more hosts to inhabit.**

“Sounds like a plan,” Wade said faintly.

After that, it was easy.

* * *

Getting Scourge and Peter back home was simple enough. Scourge stayed hidden, but sometimes, Peter would nod or shake his head, or answer a question that hadn’t been asked. It gave him a strange, prickling feeling, to know that Peter and this creature were silently communicating.

Life with Peter was…something that Wade needed to adapt to. He didn’t want actual Peter Parker to run into new, creepy Peter. So new Peter was essentially under house arrest. Scourge would sometimes overtake him, and Wade was no match for him. But Scourge was easily bribed with food, so yeah, Wade was making it work.

Peter could be lovely, sometimes. He’d sit, at Wade’s kitchen table, reading a newspaper or staring into space. He had no interest in video games or any hobbies to speak of. But he’d sit there, under the lone lamp of the kitchen light, and with his soft curls and dark eyes, he was like some lone angel, sad-eyed and quiet, judging Wade across from an IKEA folding table.

He let Wade _kiss_ him. This new Peter let him do that.

God, his lips were as soft as Wade had dreamed they would be. Soft and firm, with the sharpest teeth behind them, and if Peter decided that biting was a lot like kissing and if he found Wade’s blood to be an aphrodisiac? Well, Wade could live with that.

So, the kissing and the biting and the blood and the fucking. All of it, new, new, new. But what was pleasure without pain?

* * *

It hurt when Wade fucked him. It hurt even more when Peter fucked _him._ it hurt when they kissed and Scourge’s fangs made an unexpected appearance, spearing Wade’s tongue. Peter thought that was hilarious, and it was nice to hear him laugh.

* * *

One year after stealing Peter away from his universe, Wade told him _I love you._

He didn’t expect him to say it back, but it needed to be said.

Peter smiled up at him. Wade smiled back.

Peter punched through Wade’s chest and the layers of skin, muscle and bone tore and cracked like papier-mache. He stared down in dazed bewilderment at that white, elegant wrist, protruding from a twitching red maw. Even as Peter thrust his hand into Wade’s punctured, ragged chest, he still looked so perfectly serene. ****

He could feel Peter’s fist in his chest cavity, the fingers twitching like maggots. He was looking for something. Peter’s hand curled around his prize and squeezed. Wade’s heart. How poetic. His life was pulsing in Peter’s hand. He collapsed and the last thing he was aware of was Peter catching him mid-fall. **  
**

Wade woke up to Peter straddling his lap. The weight was pleasant and the sight couldn’t be improved upon. Peter, his soft brown hair falling in his eyes, smiling as he concentrated. He looked adorable, like an eager student. 

He was aware of shooting pain in his chest, but then, Wade was always waking up to strange pains, so that wasn’t new. His vision blurred but he blinked a few times and managed to lift his head enough so that he could stare at his chest. _Oh._ ****

“You...drawing a picture, baby boy?” ****

Peter shrugged and raised his knife, pausing a moment to lick the blood off it. Fuck, that shouldn’t look so hot. Damn, Wade was desperate. ****

“What are you drawing?” ****

He craned his neck to see. His chest was a brilliant red and pink of scars and fresh cuts.

It appeared to be a portrait of Scourge’s face.

The teeth were a little uneven, but not bad for a first attempt, using a new artistic medium.

Peter was frustrated that the wounds kept healing, his eyes flickered back and forth over the grooves, jabbing petulantly at the ones that dared to seal up. ****

“You wanna see something cool? Put your knife in and keep it there.” ****

He guided Peter’s hand to push the knife into his gut. The pain was instantaneous, but what was a little more pain if it would make his baby happy? He took Peter’s hand off the blade and they watched it. It was deep enough that it could stand straight up, unattended. As the skin stitched itself together, Wade became aware of it pushing the knife out. The knife popped out, like a cork from a bottle and Peter giggled. ****

“Thought you’d like that, honey. Oh, you wanna do it again? Go for it. But let me sleep, ‘kay?”

* * *

Eighteen months in, Wade felt like they’d built up enough trust and he felt comfortable broaching a difficult subject.

“Baby, have you ever thought about ditching Scourge? He might be happier in a new body, and you and me would be free to…live together.”

Peter laughed and brought up one lanky leg. Wade watched, subconsciously knowing what was going to happen but unable or unwilling to move away. 

He was beautiful. Balletic. Breaking Wade’s jaw.

The toe of his boot crashed into Wade's chin and he could feel every ounce of superpowered strength. He didn’t stop, didn’t slow down or hesitate and Wade could feel his bones crumple, dented by the impact, it was like being hit by a car. His body was tossed back by the blow, he fell, a ragdoll with flailing limbs.

Peter, possessed by giggling laughter, jumped on his stomach, his chest, his groin, jumping up and down as if Wade was a trampoline. Up and down, up and down. His ribs cracked under Peter’s feet, and his lungs filled with blood, he hoped Peter wouldn’t get hurt by the sharp rib bone sticking out of Wade’s chest.

“That’s a no, then?” Wade gurgled, choking on blood.

* * *

**_Two years later_ **

Wade hefted the duffel bag in his arms as he carefully eased down the basement stairs. They were missing a rail and it was still dark. If the basement had a window, pale-blue fingers of dawn light would be creeping in by now. But a window was too risky. ****

“Breakfast time for hungry boys!”

Oh, thank God, it was two beautiful brown eyes carefully watching him. Not the hideous white bulbous glare from the night before. He never knew which side he was going to get. **  
**

“I got you some food. You — you can choose what you want.” ****

On one side of the platter was a bowl of scrambled eggs and bacon. On the other side— ****

Peter reached for the bundle of stained greaseproof paper, tearing at the wrappings and his bloody prize rolled out, onto his lap. ****

“Yeah, that was a rapist I shot last night. He, haha, he had a thick neck. It was hard removing the head. And I had to carry it home in my gym bag, so there’s, uh, fibres on it, from the inside of the bag. I mean, you can pick them off, they won’t harm you or anything. I kept it in my freezer overnight to...keep it fresh. Or you could have the eggs and bacon if you want. Might be cleaner?”

Peter lifted the head up to his face and for a wild second, Wade thought he was going to kiss it. But then, the monstrous jaws of the symbiote sprang out of Peter’s mouth, forcing themselves out of his gums. Peter took a happy chomp and blood trickled down his chin. ****

“Yeah, you needed that, didn’t you, sweetheart?” He should be repulsed. He should run screaming. Leave this creature to rot in the cell. Symbiote and host, to die as they lived. Together. ****

But he couldn’t. And the symbiote knew that. It was counting on that. ****

Peter was silent, except for the sloppy smacks of his lips on flesh and bone, the tearing and snapping. But Scourge spoke through him. ****

 **The meat is good. You may mate with us now.** ****

“I’ll wait ‘til he’s finished eating,” Wade said absently and began to undress.

**Author's Note:**

> If you spot any mistakes, please let me know. And yes, the guy Wade met in the bar was Earth 65!Murderdock, from the Spider-Gwen comics.


End file.
